


night magic

by neveroffanon



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Shameless Smut, set during s1e2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:02:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24028588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neveroffanon/pseuds/neveroffanon
Summary: After Dani tucks him into bed, Malcolm does indeed have a good night.
Relationships: Malcolm Bright/Dani Powell
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	night magic

“There we go,” she murmured, the words feather soft against his ear. “Is this good with you?” A kiss, hot and sweet, presses in the hollow of skin beneath his ear, her fingers following it, dragging fingers down the side of his neck and over his chest still covered by his shirt. The click of the metal rang loud and unmuffled on the other side. Malcolm shifted his wrists, cuffed in cool metal starting to warm to his skin. Malcolm feels his mouth go dry, but the smooth tone of her voice and the burning of her touch already has him nodding against her. 

She yanks him from the little entryway and across the darkened expanse of the living room she shares with another officer. Malcolm looks either way, heart racing, not sure if she wants them to be seen, or if he does. Maybe they both do, he realizes when she drags him to a stop in front of her closed door and she laces her fingers through his hair, tugging until he’s close enough for her to nip at his lips, and his breath catches somewhere in his ribs. 

The door knob turns under her hand, and she swings them into the room, and kicks the door shut with her leg. 

“Good,” she replies, the word coming lower somehow. “Let’s get these clothes off.” She circles around him and sits, peeling off her boots, raises her arms to her blouse and shucks it into a corner, before taking long fingers to her pants and undoing the button and shimmying out of her pants and underwear in one sweeping movement. Then she sits, weight on her hands, legs spread wide, and walks the toes of one foot up the bottom of his slacks. 

Malcolm starts with his shirt, his gaze flickering down down down, slipping the buttons undone with one hand. When it hangs open, he stumbles through working the clasps of his pants until she leans forward and unzips his pants for him. He toes off his shoes then and lets his pants pool at his feet, watching her eyes survey him narrowly, lips drawing up into a crooked smile. He shivers, a little anxious. For all the flirting they’d done, he’d done, this was fresh. 

“Come here,” she bends a finger around the chain between his wrists and swings it toward her. He follows, feet tripping over his pants and shoes, until she can plant a kiss just above the band of his underwear. He sways, pulse stuttering, and closes his eyes to steady himself. 

“Down on your knees.” A hand works its way to his elbow, steadying him until he’s resting on his ankles. “Didn’t you say something about having plenty of sex?” The hand trails its way up his arm, his neck and into his hair, and Malcolm’s jaw hangs slack, panting. He stares up into her face, and nods, the idea of even saying yes too difficult to comprehend. She smiles, all dark eyes and sharp white teeth, and tilts his head until he can just press the tip of his tongue against her.

Her hand smoothes through his hair and falls away, and she leans back to give him room. His mouth is watering for her, tongue reaching out and pressing through her folds, ears burning hard with the force of his listening for the sounds she’s starting to make. When he’s found the spot that makes her whimper, he shuffles forward on his knees, sealing his mouth around her clit, and drops his hands until he can drag the chain of the cuffs over his cock. Her hips buck, and Malcolm’s hands clench into fists. He wants to press his hands around her thighs and drag her closer, but leans forward instead, pressing and sucking. His beard must be scratching at her skin, but when he brings two fingers to delve within her, her walls clench around him and she cries out. Her hips buck again and then she’s spasming against his tongue and fingers, hoarse cry bouncing off the walls of the room. 

Malcolm leans back, as she relaxes, and drops a kiss on the warm skin of her thigh. She jerks again and laughs, faintly. A ringing starts up from the mess of clothes, and Malcolm jumps a little. 

He edges backwards, leaning toward the pile of clothing, and raises his arms. They come to a halt, before he can even bring them fully over her knee. Malcolm looks, eyes tracing up the expanse of brown skin until he meets her eyes, her head canted toward him. 

Dani speaks softly, “I told you the cuffs weren’t the weirdest thing I’ve seen. Never seen self-releasing latches like that before. Pretty nice stuff Bright.” 

Malcolm blinks at her and then at his hands. They’re his cuffs, not her standard police issued ones. He raises his head again, her face growing fainter, the ringing noise growing louder, piercing at his ear drums. Malcolm shakes his head, eyes squinting shut, as if to block out the noise. When he opens them finally, he’s in his bed, the sun streaming bright through the window, Sunshine chirping at him from near the door. Malcolm presses his head deep into his pillows and groans. 

It was all a dream. A damn near perfect dream. Which meant that the chances of it ever happening were slim to none. Malcolm sighs and flicks the cuffs open, and levers himself upright until his feet hit the floor. He combs through the memories of the night before, wonders curiously at the blank between Gil asking Dani to bring him home and him unlocking the door to the loft, and then remembers asking Dani a question. 

She’d said his cuffs were not even close to the weirdest thing she’d seen. A curious sort of answer, Malcolm mused, grinning a little to himself. And one worth investigating, someday. 


End file.
